


R A V A G E

by TwitchWalkerTexasRanger



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Female Character, POV Original Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-04-07 02:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14071371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwitchWalkerTexasRanger/pseuds/TwitchWalkerTexasRanger
Summary: Forks used to be the place Blaire Holcomb only visited on summer vacations, until her parents' divorce force Blaire and her mom to become its latest residents. Blaire takes the move in stride and spends her time with her family and childhood friends, like Bella Swan. But when weird things start happening in the sleepy town, Blaire suspects Jasper Hale, local hottie and pro enigma, knows something she doesn't. [J/OC]





	1. PROLOGUE

 

* * *

 **SOME PEOPLE SAY THE FUTURE**  isn’t set in stone, while others say it’s inevitable.

I used to think the future wasn’t set in stone, but as I lay here now in utter agony, barely breathing, suffocating on my own blood, I begin to reevaluate.

With the things I’d done, the choices I made that led me up to this point, even the little decisions that felt so inconsequential – they were all just a series of steps and choices leading me to this. Exact. Moment.

While I'm on the floor, writhing in pain.

While the world around me closes in.

While my heart slows to a crawl.

And the blackness threatens to swallow me whole…

I realize my future was – _is_ – inevitable.

But I’m not sad.

I’m not afraid.

When you stare death in the face with nothing left to lose (except just one, _tiny_ thing), your perspective shifts. You find a way to make peace with the end, whether it seems inevitable or not. As I make peace with the fact that my life is going to end only seventeen years after I was born, I realize I only want two things…

To protect.

To _avenge_.

The epiphany makes me brave.

It makes me strong.

So I force myself to my knees, then up to my feet.

I am going to die today, and I will do it standing.

I will do it _fighting_.

* * *

 


	2. 1. AN OLD SIGHT FOR SORE EYES

 

* * *

 **GREEN. EVERYTHING WAS GREEN. THE** color ranged in hues from light to dark, but the world around me was most definitely _green_. It was enhanced by the gray sky and almost-black asphalt on the road behind my uncle's house. It was soaked through by a rain that always loomed on the horizon, but never broke.

Seeing so much of the color usually brought me peace, but today I was a little weirded out.

I stared at the forest in front of me, juggling a soccer ball between my sneaker-clad feet, thinking of nothing except the way the cold air felt on my skin.

The atmosphere today was weird, but I couldn't exactly pinpoint _why_. I just knew I didn't like the way my skin prickled with each passing breeze, or the unease that made my adrenaline spike whenever my eyes strayed from the evergreen expanse of the forest looming just yards away from my new house.

Maybe it was just the jitters of moving somewhere new -

_BANG!_

I jumped, accidentally toeing the ball a little too hard. It sailed into the forest, right past the treeline with a gentle _whishing_ noise. I turned around.

My mom stood on the back porch, worrying over the screen door that flew open at the gentlest push. It swung so hard that it slapped the back of the house. She looked up at me, eyes wide and forehead creased in worry. She looked like that a lot these days.

"Sorry!" She exclaimed, her dusty blonde hair swinging in wild waves as she pushed it over her shoulder. "We need to get this door fixed. Did the ball go too far?"

"I don't think so," I replied, turning back to the forest. I frowned when I didn't immediately see the red and white ball stand out from all the green. It was like the forest just swallowed it up. "Or..."

I took a tentative step forward and paused. I looked back at my mom. Her expression was wary.

"How about we get a new one instead?" She asked. "I'll be in Seattle later this week."

That ball cost eighty dollars, and my mom was fine with me leaving it? It was obviously some kind of bribe, and I wanted a new ball anyway, so I'd take it.

"That works," I said. I left the soccer ball behind to follow my mom back in the house, trying to ignore the way my instincts told me it was wrong to turn my back on the woods.

The house was as silent and eerie as it was outside. It was an oversized man-cave. The back door led into the kitchen which was laid with fading laminate flooring and adorned with dated honey oak cabinets. At least the appliances weren't too far gone. To my right was the dining room holding a warped wooden table with four matching chairs.

My mom banged through the cabinets and the tiny pantry next to a fridge from the 1980s. "Your uncle left nothing in the way of provisions," she said, frowning.

I walked through the kitchen and into the living room set with baggy, mismatched furniture probably picked up from a yard sale twenty years ago that filled me with nostalgia. The TV and sound system might have just been the most valuable things in the whole house. Instead of a baseball game playing on the screen, my mom watched the _Food Network_. The head of a five-point buck hung on the wall above and its glass eyes looked down disapprovingly. Unable to look, I turned away and focused on the non-functioning fireplace. On its mantle were a few spares knickknacks, like a carving made from Pacific driftwood, an American flag folded in a triangle in a box, the trophy from my first pee-wee soccer game, and a couple of pictures including me through the years in various soccer jerseys or posing for school pictures. I noticed one from when I was five years old.

Geez, talk about a mess. When I was little, my red hair was always a frizzy mess my mom tried to temper with braids and pigtails and I had the _biggest_ buck teeth. I rolled my eyes at my past self, relieved I'd grown into my overbite and realized hair straighteners were your friends. Five-year-old me sat on top of a lanky man's shoulders. His face was gaunt and covered in short, scratchy hairs, like he constantly forgot to shave. His smile was crooked and his eyes were bright. That was all that mattered to me.

This house used to be warm and lifelike, much like Forks, Washington itself. Now it was empty, cold, with a slight crackle of apprehension that lingered too long in the air like there always was when something bad happened in a place.

"He loved having you here," my mom said, surprising me a second time. I watched her round the kitchen and lean against the wall in the living room. She smiled sadly.

I looked back at the pictures. "I should've visited more often, then," I admitted.

"Don't do that yourself, Bee," my mom said. "Your uncle knew how busy you were with school and soccer -"

"I know," I said. "I just... don't think it adds up, I guess."

My mom walked further into the living room, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before she passed me. She gathered up loose paperwork spread out over the coffee table - final bills and paperwork - in a pile and took them into the kitchen.

Then my phone rang. We both actually froze.

The suddenly offending device sat on the coffee table next to the couch on its charger, making hornet-like buzzing noises as it vibrated against the surface. I glanced back at my mom, whose forehead creased further. I walked toward it. My eyes narrowed at the home screen while the word **DAD** stood out in bold letters and pulsed with every vibration. I rejected the call, which made something in my chest drop a little lower.

My mom sighed. "You can't avoid him forever, honey."

"I can try," I replied flatly.

Before she could say anything else, the front door burst open. A lanky man wearing a navy windbreaker and slacks strode through the threshold. His face was still gaunt, still covered in gray and white whiskers, but his eyes were still bright and merry under the bill of his navy baseball cap. When our eyes met, we grinned at each other.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite ladies!" He exclaimed, but his smile quickly dropped when he saw my mom's face. "Uh... who died?"

"No one, Waylon," my mom said, "unless you count your niece's relationship with her father. Blaire refuses to answer any of his calls. Can you tell her it won't do her any good to shut him out?"

My uncle _hummed_ , as if he were actually thinking about something to say. He stroked his stubbly chin with one hand and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. Then he winked. "I don't know, Annie. I think Blaire's got a level head on her shoulders. The man may be here dad, but he's also a real son of a -"

" _Waylon_ ," my mom hissed.

"See?" I asked. "Uncle Way doesn't see anything wrong with it. I told you I was on your side no matter what -"

"There are no sides, sweetie," my mom said, exasperation clawing its way through her imploring tone.

"Oh, I think he made her choose sides with what he did, Anne," Waylon said. "I don't blame the kid for choosing not to have a relationship with him right now. If the bastard can't understand that, he's got more issues than a divorce settlement -"

"Waylon." My mom was already messaging her temples. That was never a good sign.

"But," Waylon relented, looking back at me. "This is between your parents. Just because they're separating doesn't mean they love you any less. You're gonna have to talk to your dad eventually."

"Yeah, sure," I said, rolling my eyes. At least Waylon bought me time until _eventually_ came around.

"Anyway," he went on, "since you ladies are finished unpacking and womanizing my house, why don't we go out for a celebratory dinner? That'll be a great way to kick of my sister and niece's homecoming."

"Is that really necessary?" My mom asked.

"Yes," Waylon said with a wicked smile. "Charlie's already on his way to get a booth at the Carver Café."

"Charlie _Swan_ is coming?" My mom asked. The alarm that splayed across her face was a fresh look for her.

"Well, yeah," Waylon said. "He's bringing Bella too. I thought it'd be great to bring the old gang back together again."

That was a name I hadn't heard in ages, but stirred my heart warmly as I remembered the girl I was practically glued to every summer before I was ten. My brows shot up. "Bella Swan lives in Forks too?" I asked. "I thought she lived with her mom or something."

"She just moved here too," Waylon said. "Something about her mom and stepdad traveling? I don't know, didn't want to pry. Anyway, Charlie's ecstatic to have her, even if the old man doesn't show it. She's going to the same school as you too - Forks High."

"It'll be nice to see a familiar face," I said. "And I'm always down for some Carver."

"That's the spirit!" My uncle exclaimed.

"All right, fine," my mom said, "just let me change."

I decided to forgo that process and remained in my cardboard-dust covered leggings and oversized purple University of Washington hoodie. I did reach out and take off Waylon's navy baseball cap sporting the Forks PD emblem in front to hide my unruly hair. My uncle smiled warmly as I threaded my ponytail through the hole in the back of the cap. I grinned back.

"You know, I'm real proud of the way you're handling things, kid," he said. "I know your mom tries no too show it, but your support means the world to her."

"Thanks, Uncle Way," I said.

After my mom changed into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a suspicious layer of mascara and foundation, we walked out of the house and piled into my mom's sleek sedan. Our only other modes of transportation were the Forks police cruiser or my uncle's decrepit hatchback, which none of us knew would actually start or not. While I waited for my mom to unlock the doors, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I glanced around, wondering what was up with me today. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The sky was still overcast, the forest was still its lush shade of green, and everything was quiet. But was it too quiet? I realized I didn't hear any songbirds -

"Any day now, Blaire-bear!" My uncle sang in an off-key voice. He and my mom were already sitting in the car.

I rolled my eyes at him and slid in the backseat, trying to brush off the weird vibe my new home was giving me.

* * *

 _ **The Carver Café**_ was more than a local diner. It was an institution. It was the place students gathered before and after football games, the place where everyone felt like family as soon as they walked in, and one of my family's favorite places to eat. Every summer up until I was ten, and then sparsely after that, we always made at least one trek to the local icon of a restaurant.

It looked the same as always with its late sixties vibe, smelled just the same with its stale coffee and fry-batter lingering in the air, to most of the inhabitants sitting at the bar. My uncle burst into the diner like he owned the place, already receiving several "hellos" from many patrons. Apparently being the local deputy had its perks.

"Chief!" My uncle said as soon as he turned toward one of the bigger, circular booths built into the far wall of the diner. My eyes landed on a man wearing a similar uniform as my uncle with a fuller head of chocolate brown hair and a thick brown mustache that covered his mouth. He waved us down from the diner's entrance. A lean brunette girl sat next to him.

Both stood as we approached the booth. "Uh, hey, Blaire," the man said first, reaching out to give me an awkward side-hug. I rolled with it and hugged him back. "You got taller."

"And you look exactly the same," I teased. "Hey, Mister Charlie. It's good to see you again."

"Just Charlie," Charlie Swan, Chief of Forks Police Department and co-star in some of my favorite Forks-centric childhood memories, corrected me. "It's good to see you too. You remember Bella, right?"

I turned to the brunette girl in question. If I'd gotten taller, Charlie probably could have mistaken Bella for a giant. She was at least a few inches taller than me with the lean figure of someone who was athletic, which made me wonder if she'd grown out of her klutziness. The past almost-seven years we hadn't seen each other also graced her with a beauty that was handsome in the way some women were.

She looked a lot like her dad, I realized. Her eyes were also a lot like his: gentle, open, and kind. They reminded me of muddy sand castles on a gray beach, stomping through evergreen forests, balancing on logs as we attended our very own princess academies, and ice cream. There had been _a lot_ of ice cream.

I smiled at her tentatively. "It's been a while, but yeah, of course I do," I said. "Hey, Bee."

The girl, Isabella (no, Bella, because she always screamed, "You know I _hate_ that name!" if anyone ever said it) Swan, gave me a small smile. "Hey, Bee."

Bee and Bee. They used to call us Bee-Squared.

My mom gawked. "Bella? Oh my goodness, you've gotten so big! How long has it been? Seven years?"

"Something like that," Charlie said. "Hey, Annie."

My mom's head snapped to him and a smile stretched across her face. For the first time in months, her expression appeared more relaxed. "Charlie," she said. "It's so good to see you again."

Before I knew what was happening, she went in and hugged Bella's dad full on, and not a wimpy side-hug. They two embraced for a second that seemed a little too long to me. Bella and I made eye-contact and stared incredulously at each other. What the hell was going on? She shrugged helplessly at me.

"So are we gonna get this show on the road or what?" Waylon asked as Charlie and my mom separated. "I'm starving."

With that, the five of us sat at the booth, clustered in close. Bella and I sat next to each other in the middle, closest to a window that opened up to a view of the diner's sparkling lot with our parents on either side of us. Waylon sat next to Charlie.

Then it was silent. Awkwardly so. The clanking and chatter of the diner felt overwhelming compared to the tense quiet surrounding our table.

"So..." Charlie began. "How is everything?"

"Fine!" My mom chirped a little over enthusiastically. The stress that often strained her voice was back. "Just fine!"

Way to go, Mom. Charlie looked like he was already scrambling for a way to keep the conversation going. "You, uh... settling in all right?"

"Oh yes, just fine," she replied. She tried to find something to fidget with on the table, only to realize our waitress hadn't even shown up yet to give us silverware. "How - How have you been?"

"Fine," Charlie replied.

"That's..." my mom started. She avoided looking at him. "Good."

Cue another awkward silence. This was the weirdest dinner ever.

"So, Bella," my uncle drawled, effectively breaking the second silence. "Charlie said you made it through your first day at Forks High. How was it? And for the love of God, please don't say _fine_."

I snorted at his bluntness. Bella started blushing, her signature move, and squirming. "Umm, it was all right," she said. "The, uh, people there seem nice."

Waylon looked at me imploringly. We both knew this get-together was going downhill fast. "That's good," he said. "Blaire's gonna start there tomorrow. Maybe you can give her a ride or something, reunite good ol' Bee-Squared -"

"She doesn't have to," I said quickly. I I looked at Bella. "Really, I don't want to put you out. Come on, Waylon, you can't put her on the spot like that -"

"No, no, it's cool," Bella said. "I want to. I think it'd be... fun. We could catch up."

Relief hit me like a ton of bricks. "It'll be nice to know someone there," I admitted. "Maybe we'll have classes together too."

"Yeah, definitely," Bella agreed. "I don't doubt it. Small town - and - and everything. If you want, I can give you that ride tomorrow."

"That'd be great, thanks," I said, pulling out my cell phone. "What's your phone number?"

Bella's mouth turned down. "Um, I can give you my home number."

"That works," I said, even if it didn't. Why didn't she have a cell phone? Almost everyone had cell phones in my old high school. Maybe it wasn't really necessary for kids who went to public schools in small towns. I typed Bella's home number into my phone anyway and let her look it over to make sure it was right.

"I can pick you up tomorrow at six-thirty," Bella said after she affirmed the digits. "Does that work?"

"Absolutely," I said.

Then we all sat in more silence until the waitress finally came to our table. It was a pure act of mercy, I was sure. But when she collected our drink orders in a quick business-like manner and left, I realized there was still another round of torturous silence ahead of us.

* * *

 ** _Dinner was a_** fairly quick affair because apparently reunited people after seven years made conversation difficult. Who would have thought? Apparently my uncle didn't, since he and my mom went to high school with Charlie Swan and spent almost ten summers together after that, but it almost seemed like they were completely strangers. Gone was the easy banter I remembered so many summers ago. Instead, it'd been replaced with open-ended questions answered with two words or less, and silverware clanking against glass plates.

Waylon didn't bring it up on the drive home like I expected him to. He was pretty a straightforward no-bullshit kind of guy like that, a characteristic I always wanted for myself. But for him to show any form of tact to my currently more-frazzled-than-normal mom was weird and it made the ride home deathly silent.

We reached Waylon's house in a little under fifteen minutes and got out of the car. I followed the adults to the front door, until I noticed one of my shoes was untied. I bent down to untie it.

Then a wintery cold breeze brushed against my back.

I shot up to my feet. The hairs on the back of my neck stood end. The breeze felt unnatural against the current temperature around me. Irrational panic flickered in the back of my mind and made my skin erupt in goosebumps. I spun around, finding nothing but the empty street beyond us. It was still damp from a light drizzle that followed us all the way home from the Carver Café.

What the hell...

"Blaire!" My mom called. I whipped around, finding her and Waylon standing at the doorway of his house. They watched me. "What are you looking at?"

"Uh..." I looked over my shoulder one more time, seeing nothing, and turned back around. "Nothing."

I walked up to the house, even though a strange paranoid part of my brain whispered for me to _run_ as I pushed past them. "Cold chill," I explained. "Goodnight!"

I didn't stop walking until I could close the door to my new bedroom and shut the wispy white curtains that barely blocked out the silvery light from the moon. I tried to chalk up my sudden burst of anxiety toward starting at a brand new school in the middle of the semester tomorrow, but I couldn't shake the eerie feeling even after I closed my eyes.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've had the idea for writing a Jasper/OC story for a while now, but I wanted to try and take it in a different direction than most of the stories I keep finding. I think I want to shake things up a little bit.
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!


	3. 2. CASE CLOSED

 

 

* * *

 **I WOKE UP TEN MINUTES** before my alarm went off. I couldn't sleep any longer, like something in the back of my mind was forcing me into consciousness. When I finally resigned myself to waking up, I turned on my bedside lamp and faced my bedroom window.

The curtains were open.

And not just barely, either. They were pushed to the farthest ends of my window, letting in all the darkness from a pre-sunrise in Forks. It looked like a giant black void. It made my skin crawl. I  _stared_ at it, trying not to panic.

Maybe I was going crazy and I didn't actually shut the curtains last night, or maybe the air blowing from the vent underneath the window made them shift. I knew for a fact the window was locked so nobody could get inside, so I was safe. I was okay.

I watched the ends of the curtains flutter in the wake of hot air blowing from the vent, deciding that must have been the culprit, even though a small part of myself didn't believe it. There was no other explanation. With nothing else to go off of, I got up to start my day.

I stepped out of my room with a fresh change of clothes under my arm. I hustled toward the bathroom. The house had two bathrooms in it. One was an en suite in Uncle Waylon's room (which I was told was to never be used under _any_ circumstances), and the other was at the end of the hallway from mine and my mom's rooms. When I opened the door to the bathroom, I jumped when I heard my mom's door open behind me.

"Blaire?" she asked. I turned, somewhat surprised to see her dressed in black sweatpants and an oversized purple University of Washington hoodie. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and her reading glasses were askew on her nose. I noticed a laptop under her arm. How long had she been awake?

"Hey, Mom," I said. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," she said, looking down at her laptop like she didn't even know she was holding it. "Emailing my class. I needed to give them their reading assignments for this week."

My mom was a history professor at the University of Washington. I almost forgot I wasn't the only one who moved in the middle of a semester. "Is everything going okay?" I asked.

She smiled at me. "It's fine, sweetheart. I have to rive over there in a week for midterms, but they'll survive without me until then. Is Bella taking you to school?"

"As far as I know, yeah," I said. "I'm going to get ready."

"Okay. Do you know what you want for breakfast?" she asked. It caught me off guard. My mom didn't _do_ breakfast. She was usually gone most week-mornings back home, so I was used to fending for myself. I frowned at her.

"You don't have to do this," I said.

Her face fell. "Do what, hon?"

I grimaced. It was too late to change the subject now. "Um... this," I said, gesturing between us. "You're... acting different, I guess. You don't have to switch everything up if you're worried about me, or whatever. I promise I'm fine. I'd tell you if I wasn't."

"I know," she said. "It's just that you've given up so much to come here. You still don't have to, you know. I wouldn't be upset if you wanted to move back to Seattle, so you can go to your school and live in your house –"

"Forks is my home too," I said immediately. "I want to stay with you."

My mom smiled again. It seemed a little forced. "All right," she relented. "Hurry up and get dressed then. We're still going to try and do breakfast."

We parted ways. I took a quick shower and changed into what I hoped was an impressive outfit for my first day at Forks High: a chunky gray sweater, ripped blue jeans, and white slip-on Vans. After drying and straightening my hair, I went back to my room to grab my backpack before walking downstairs into the dining room and kitchen. My mom drifted back and forth between the counters while making toast and drinking coffee while my uncle filled a travel mug with coffee from the machine in the corner of the kitchen.

"Morning," I greeted them, noticing my uncle already in uniform. "I thought you didn't go in the station until eight-thirty."

Waylon perked up as he strode out of the kitchen. "Charlie called," he explained as he set his thermos on the counter. He picked up his belt hanging on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and latched it around his waist. The gun settled against his hip. "He wants me to go to Mason County today. A security guard at the Grisham Mill was killed by a wild animal."

My brows shot up.

"What?" my mom asked. "That happened at the Mill?"

Waylon shrugged. "As you've always put it, we're in the middle of nowhere, Annie. It's bound to happen. Anyway, the county's been trying to hunt the animal down, but they still don't have anything. Charlie wants to see if the station can lend them a hand."

"You don't know what kind of animal it is yet?" my mom asked.

Waylon frowned. "Not as of yet. It's hard to tell. The coroner says it's the strangest kill he's ever seen."

I could hardly believe his words. They were so bizarre. How could someone be killed by an _animal_? "Oh..." I finally managed. "Okay."

"Don't worry about it too much, kid," he said. "We're in a populated part of town. There might be deer or the occasional black bear, but they know to stay away from people. Grisham Mill is set pretty far back in the woods."

A car horn _beeped!_ outside. My stomach erupted into a whole new flock of butterflies.

"That must be Bella," Waylon said.

"Yeah, I've got to go," I said.

"You haven't even had breakfast yet," my mom said.

"It's okay," I replied. "To be honest, I'm not even that hungry. Nerves."

She looked deflated, but nodded anyway. "All right. Have a good day at school, sweetheart."

"Ditto kiddo," Waylon said. He reached out and ruffled my hair. "You mom and I went to school with most of your new classmates' parents. Everyone's pretty friendly here. Just like the local wildlife, don't worry about them too much. Unless you come back with a boyfriend. Then you still shouldn't worry, but _he_ should."

I groaned. "Why are you like this?" I asked, reaching up to smooth down my hair. "Will it make you feel better if I told you I wasn't even remotely interested in dating right now? Yes? Great. Okay, I've got to go now, bye guys!"

I bounced out the front door. The cold greeted me first, reminding me of the strange gust of wind that brushed across my back last night.

I clopped down the steps of my uncle's porch and made my way to the new car in the driveway: a faded red Chevy pickup, circa early 1950s. My eyes almost popped open at the sight of the vintage behemoth as I hustled toward it.

"Nice ride, Bells," I said as I practically fell in its front seat. I dropped my backpack at my feet and looked at her as she put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. The engine gave a throaty growl as it accelerated down the street. "How'd you get it?"

"Do you remember Jacob Black?" Bella asked. "He lived on the La Push Reservation. We didn't really hang out with him a lot when we were in Forks, which used to make him so upset – but anyway – his dad sold it to my dad."

"Oh cool," I said. "Is his dad Billy Black? I remember him coming over to play poker with your dad and Waylon on rainy days."

"Yeah, he mentioned that," she said. "He's, uh, in a wheelchair now, so he doesn't need the truck anymore."

"That's sad," I said. "Hopefully I'll get to see him soon. Geez, can you believe it? What are the chances of us moving up here at the same time?"

"Yeah, it's crazy," Bella answered, but I could tell her focus wasn't on me. I narrowed my eyes and formulated three guesses as to why. I went for the most obvious first.

"So..." I started off, "what's the situation with the guys around here?"

Bella's face began to turn red, a telltale sign I was on the right track. "Um... Everyone's pretty nice," she started off awkwardly. "I mean, maybe a little _overly_ friendly –"

"That's all teenage boys, Bella," I said. "I meant is there anyone specific I should keep my eye on? Or... off?"

Her faced turned a little redder. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "What do you mean?"

I smirked. "I was just curious about the guy that's on your mind right now," I said, "so I know he's taken and everything."

"There's no – I don't have a – I mean, sorry, wait – _No_  – Blaire, it's not – "

My smirk turned into a grin. "Can't fool me, Bee," I said.

Bella scoffed. "You're impossible," she accused. "You haven't changed a bit."

"And neither have you," I replied, "which is what makes this so easy. Now come on, you're not allowed to hold me in suspense any longer!"

"Fine," she sighed, "but it really _is_ nothing."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Bella sighed again. "It's just this one guy. His name is Edward Cullen. He's, like, a total jerk. Yesterday, on my first day of school, he acted like I was the worst person on the face of the earth."

"What?" I asked, somewhat incredulous. If Bella Swan was still the same kid I spent summers with, she was probably one of the nicest people anyone could ever meet. "What did he do?"

"He gave me the worst look as soon as I walked in, like he decided to hate me on sight or something. Then he _kept_ glaring at me through class! Then he left as soon as the bell rang like... like... _ugh_!" Bella tightened her hands on the steering wheel. "He even tried to switch classes to get away from me. I want to confront him about it today."

I nodded appreciatively at the story. Maybe meek little Bella had changed a little since we last hung out. "All right, Bells, good to see some of my attitude actually rubbed off on you." When we were little, I was always the one instigating fights. Bella was either the victim of an unlucky bully or trying to protect me if the odds were stacked against me. "Should I start chanting _fight_ when you see him? That'll probably up your street cred at school."

She snorted indignantly at me. "I don't want a fight. I just want to know what his problem is."

"Same difference," I said. "I'll back you up."

We pulled into the parking lot in front of an odd cluster of uniform brick buildings that made up Forks High School. It was old, dated like the rest of the town, but meticulously preserved. Bella's car was one of the first in the parking lot. We clambered out after she parked. A tenseness already started building in the air as we stood next to her car and waited.

"I'm sorry," Bella said abruptly after a minute. "I know this can't be fun. If you want, you can go to the front office –"

"No way," I said. "This is fun. I want to do this with you. You know what they say. Nothing brings two people together like hating the same person."

She smirked and fished a book out of her backpack. She cracked it open and started reading, leaned against the side of her truck while I dropped her tailgate and hoisted myself up to sit on it while I aimlessly scrolled through my phone. I answered a few text messages from my friends back in Seattle. In the middle of one text, my phone started vibrating. The word **DAD** splayed across the screen. I rejected it.

I glanced over at Bella after feeling her eyes on me, or more like my phone, but she quickly looked away. I sighed.

"You can ask," I said. "Did Charlie tell you anything?"

"He... He said your dad was a low-life," she admitted. "But that was it. I think he's protective of you and your mom after all this time and everything. I don't want to pry."

"It's okay," I said. "I don't mind if you know. Apparently my dad's been cheating on my mom for years now – all different women – but we just found out a couple of months ago. I caught him with one of the other moms on my soccer team at my old school."

"Oh my God, Blaire, I'm so sorry –"

"I don't care," I said. "It's his fault for breaking up my family. He's getting his in the divorce settlement. My mom and I are okay. She keeps telling me that living in Forks is only temporary and that I'll finish out the semester here while she finds a place for us back in Seattle, but I don't mind staying. I'm happier here."

"What about soccer?" Bella asked. "Your mom said you were supposed to be co-captain on your team this year."

More cars started pulling into the parking lot now. I couldn't help but notice some of the students staring at us through their car windows. "I'm pretty confident about my chances," I said. "If I can make it big in a Seattle private school, small-town Forks doesn't stand a chance."

"You're pretty optimistic," Bella said.

"I like Forks," I replied. "I always have. This is where my family is. Seattle always felt a little too lonely for me, anyway. It's like there were so many people, you lose your place."

"I felt the same way about Phoenix," she admitted.

I smiled at her. "Maybe fate brought us back together for a reason, Bella Swan."

"Maybe, Blaire Holcomb," she echoed. Her eyes were trained on a shiny silver Volvo pulling into the parking lot. That had to be _his_ car. I narrowed my eyes.

"Like I said, I've got your back," I said when I noticed Bella shut her book with trembling fingers. The Volvo swung into a parking spot a few rows down from us. All four doors swung open at once. Then _they_ stepped out of the car.

Four people ranging in different shapes and hair colors slid out of the car gracefully, as if they were in the middle of a photoshoot. They were all unnaturally pale – which is coming from a Seattle-native – and impossibly perfect. My eyes widened as the people moved like a synchronized pack past the cars and students. They looked like high school students, but at the same time not really. Something was off with them, but every time I tried to pinpoint what that was, I couldn't figure it out.

"Wait, he has siblings?" I asked.

"Yeah," Bella answered. "They're all adopted."

There were two boys and two girls. The girls were total opposites. One was blonde and had the curves and physique of a Scandinavian swimsuit model while the other was shorter and pixie-like with black spiky short hair. The two boys only contrasted slightly. One was taller and beefy with tight curly dark hair. He looked like a cage fighter. I immediately decided that couldn't be the Edward Cullen Bella detested (but was totally hung up on), mainly because she wouldn't face off with someone that size (because that seemed more like Blaire-territory), and looked at the other one.

He was only a little shorter than the tank walking beside him and a little leaner. His honey-blond hair hung in long, curly tendrils that were purposefully mussed. If it wasn't for his pale skin, the boy looked like he belonged on a surfer photoshoot.  His face was angular, statuesque, _perfect_  –

"Uh, Blaire?" Bella asked. She gently rocked my arm to get my attention. I whipped around so fast I could have gotten whiplash. Blood roared through my ears as I tried to settle down. The guy was fine as hell, so what? I didn't matter. I was a huge supporter of the Girl Code and Bella saw him first. That was it. Case closed.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" I asked, somewhat breathlessly. "Let's give this Cullen guy a piece of your mind. He's the one who looks like the missing cast member of _Hawaii Five-O_ , right?"

"Wait, Blaire!" Bella called, her voice coming out a little strangled as I hopped off the tailgate of her truck and started walking toward them.

I managed to take four steps toward the siblings. In that time, several things happened at once.

On the first step, the small girl with black hair gripped the blond boy's bicep and made the whole group freeze. Her eyes were wide and unseeing. It was weird, but whatever.

As I lifted my foot up for the second step, the remaining three clustered around the small girl and backed off just as fast. The blond boy's head snapped up and his shoulders squared back. He was alert, ready to... I didn't even know what.

My second step dropped.

His eyes met mine.

My heart stopped.

His expression was cold, closed off, calculating. We appraised each other from across the parking lot as I took my next step.

From my third step on the way to the fourth, Bella snatched one of my arms in her long fingers just as my leg extended and threatened to push me forward. "No, Blaire!" Bella said. "Stop! He isn't there! That's not _him_!"

"It's not?" I asked just as my foot dropped.

Step four.

" _Bella_!" A male voice shouted a little too exuberantly from behind us.

I finally looked away from the blond and looked at Bella, who was still gripping my arm for dear life with wide eyes. She was shaking her head. "That's not him," she hissed. "There are five of them. Edward isn't here."

"Oh..." I said. When I finally looked back at the group, I saw the dark haired guy and blonde girl setting a brisk pace for the school. The blond guy slung his arm over the dark haired girl's shoulders and pulled her in close to his side, which made her look even smaller.

As he started pulling her toward the school, she looked over her shoulder at me. She threw me a megawatt smile that startled me with its unbridled kindness. Then, to make things even _more_ weird, she waved enthusiastically. My eyes widened. What the hell?

Like any _sane_ person would, I waved back.

That made her smile grow ten times brighter. I didn't even think that was possible. The blond guy noticed our exchange, gave me one more speculative look, then leaned down to whisper something to the girl that made her shoulders drop.

Bella suddenly released my arm like I burnt her. "Sorry," she muttered. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I said, watching the blond guy and black haired girl until they disappeared into one of the school building. "Good save."

" _Bella_!" That same male voice shouted again, this time closer. We both turned and I frowned as a boy with pale blond hair jogged up to us. He looked like a typical jock, dressed head to toe in Nike and Under Armor. Thank God, an actual high school student I could relate to. I was beginning to worry all of the students here were going to look like those weirdly perfect people.

He was a little breathless by the time he reached us, smiling at Bella before turning to me. "What? Don't tell me! Two new girls in _two days_?"

"Afraid so," I said. I stuck out my hand in greeting. "I'm Blaire. My mom and I just moved here from Seattle."

The boy grinned back and reached out to shake my hand. "Mike Newton," he replied. "So... Do you need someone to show you around?"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you guys so much for your reads and kudos so far! I really appreciate your support!
> 
> So... what do you think?! Kudos and comments are appreciated!


	4. OCCURENCE

 

* * *

 **LUCKILY, THE REST OF MY** first morning at Forks High was a breeze. I got my schedule form the school's secretary, Miss Cope, and found out Bella and I shared three classes together: English in first period, Spanish in fourth period, and gym in sixth.

I met her friends, Mike Newton and Eric Yorkie in English and Jessica Stanley in Spanish. Coincidentally, we all shared the same lunch period together. Apparently Forks was a small enough school that everyone shared the same lunch period together.

I had to muddle through my three other classes: trigonometry in second period, biology in third period, and honor's history in fifth. So far, I made it through periods one through four fairly well, as in, I didn't try to fight anyone else again.

Until lunch.

It was at lunch I met the rest of Bella's acquaintances, like Angela Weber who I learned was in my trig class and Tyler Crowley who was actually my biology partner. It was also where I met my least favorite person in Forks High. Seriously, with a population as small as this high school's, it was pretty easy to weed out the tolerable people from the intolerable.

Lauren Mallory managed to make herself intolerable within the first five minutes of meeting her. Her pale eyes blatantly roved over me with casual disdain while Jessica introduced us. She didn't bother saying it was nice to meet me too when I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, but she deigned my response with a flip of her pale blonde hair over one shoulder. Needless to say, I didn't try any harder to get on her good side. In fact, I think we both made a point to ignore each other for the rest of lunch. Or so I'd thought.

"So _Blaire_ ," Jessica said, giving my name an extra syllable that didn't exist, after chewing on a floppy cafeteria French fry. "Where did you move from?"

"Seattle," I said. "Nothing exciting like Bella's trek from Phoenix."

"That's cool," Tyler said. "How do you like it here so far?"

Tyler wasn't a bad looking guy at all. He was tall, dark, muscular, obviously a jock-type, which meant he was totally _my_ type. Even though he had nothing on the blond Cullen boy I saw this morning, Tyler was an approachable hot. He had innocent boy-next-door vibes that would make any white-picket-fence-mom swoon. He was nice and polite with an adorable goofy smile.

"Oh, I love it here," I said, practically beaming at him. "I used to visit every summer until I was ten. In fact, mine and Bella's vacations used to overlap, so we kind of grew up together."

"That's nice," Angela said. Her voice was soft and friendly. "You guys are childhood friends."

"Yeah, our families used to call us Bee-Squared, right Bells?" I asked, smiling over at Bella. She wasn't looking at me. In fact, she wasn't even involved in the conversation. I looked over her head to see what she was staring at.

It was a round cafeteria table set the furthest away from all of the other tables. Four people I was begrudgingly becoming familiar with sat there in front of trays filled with food that hadn't even been touched. They weren't eating. Instead they were all leaned in close, talking to each other all at once. Their expressions varied from grim to concerned, except the one blonde girl who just looked mad. The dark-haired guy built like a tank and the two girls' focus was on the blond guy who had an inexplicable look of frustration on his face. He was staring down at his tray, moving food around, his lips moving fast as he spoke too.

Unease pricked at the base of my neck. Despite being all the way across the room and not being able to hear a word they were saying, I felt like I was intruding on a moment. I gave Bella a hard nudge with my elbow, startling her. "Sorry," she said. "What's up?"

"I think you're getting a little obsessed," I said, making her face redden in embarrassment.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, looking disappointed.

"We were going to confront Edward Cullen this morning," I said, smirking at the widening eyes of the students sitting around us. "Apparently he was giving Bells a hard time in biology yesterday."

"You were _not_!" Jessica gasped.

"Swear," I replied. "I was totally gonna go in for the kill too, until Bella stopped me and made me realize he wasn't even here today."

Everyone laughed except Lauren Mallory. Even Bella gave a small chuckle at that.

"You're crazy," Angela said, smiling. "Both of you are. Which one did you think was Edward?"

"Uh, Blondie over there," I said, making sure to show as little interest as possible in the guy I'd been secretly rejoicing over since Bella said he wasn't Edward Cullen. "I knew there was no way Bella would even think about confronting the Hulk's stepbrother over there, so he was the next logical choice. Unless one of the girls was named Edward –"

"Oh my God!" Tyler gasped through his laughter. "The Hulk's _stepbrother_? Seriously?"

I noticed Lauren Mallory's eyes narrow dangerously as I turned to face the other boy. "I mean, yeah!" I said, pretending I didn't notice her cutting glare. "What else would you call him? Dude's got serious gains. To be honest, I'm kind of jealous. I bet he's a real powerhouse on the football team –"

"Emmett Cullen doesn't play sports," Jessica said, introducing me to the first member of the Cullen family. "None of them do. They keep to themselves."

" _Yeah_ they do," Tyler snickered, making me frown.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"It means they don't date," Lauren piped up. "It's because they're all, like, _with_ each other."

Okay, that was kind of weird.

"It's just Emmett and Rosalie," Angela said, quick to defend them. "And it's not like any of them are actually blood-related, except for Jasper and Rosalie."

"Is that the blond guy's name?" I asked, staring pointedly at my tray to keep from looking at the table again, trying to act uninterested, failing miserably. Lauren-freaking- _Mallory_ noticed first.

"Yeah, Jasper Hale. Don't get your hopes up, though," she said haughtily. "He's a senior and hasn't shown anyone _any_ interest the past two years they've lived here. I'm pretty sure it's because he and that other girl, Alice, are a thing. At least they're trying to keep it on the down-low."

I pretended that wasn't as disappointing as it actually was. I shrugged. "Oh well, to each their own, right? As long as they're not hurting anyone, I could care less."

Lauren's face screwed up in disgust, even after she looked away from the Cullens' table at the end of the cafeteria. "So why did you move to Forks, anyway," she asked, effectively changing the conversation. "Usually people here are trying to move there."

"My parents are getting divorced," I said, deciding I wouldn't lie about it. "My mom brought us here to settle things quietly and give us plenty of time to find a new place in Seattle. She says I'm only going to be here until the end of the semester."

"I'm so sorry," Angela said, genuine concern lacing her words. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't like it when people felt sorry for me. "That must be rough."

"It's really not that big of a deal," I said. "Marriages have a fifty-percent success rate these days. It happens. I haven't been back to Forks in years, so I'm enjoying some quality time with my family. My uncle lives up here. His name is Waylon Forge? He's the deputy at the Forks Police Department."

Lauren looked like she almost choked on her Desani water bottle filled with school fountain water. She pulled the bottle away from her face with raised brows and a slightly haughty smile ghosting across her lips.

"Sorry, was there something funny about that?" I asked.

Lauren's eyes widened. So did Jessica's. Apparently they weren't expecting me to fight back. Lauren regained her composure. "Oh, nothing," she said. "I was just remembering Waylon Forge's little stint as Santa Claus one year, that's all."

I narrowed my eyes.

If I were a good person, I wouldn't let it get to me. But I was definitely no saint. When we were kids, that had been Bella's job. I definitely wasn't going to let the Queen of Podunk Town get the best of me, _especially_ if she was trying to mess with my family. I would find a way to get my revenge. It would be an epic plan that would leave her destitute, strip her popularity and make Lauren Mallory _wish_ she never said a word against me. But for now, I would settle.

"How... provincial," I said.

Lauren's nose wrinkled. "What?"

"I guess I find it funny," I said. "I thought the small-town sheep-like mentality was some cliché TV shows and movies came up with. Since that little Santa Claus stint, my uncle hasn't had a single drink, but it seems like people here only seem to remember that mistake. It's like they forgot he was a war hero that struggles with PTSD who was able to turn that around and become deputy of this town, or that he's always the one who helps the loggers protest peacefully, or that he always volunteers to talk to the elementary school kids on Career Day –"

"Hold on, hold on, not all of us are like that," Tyler said. "I think Deputy Forge is awesome! He's probably the coolest police officer in Forks! Uh, no offense, Bella."

Bella shrugged. "None taken."

Lauren didn't say anything. She didn't even apologize.

"So, Blaire," Tyler said, trying to change the subject. "I saw you talking to Coach Davis earlier. Do you play any sports?"

"Soccer," I said.

"Oh! Lauren's on the soccer team too!" Angela said. Her smile wilted under Lauren's frosty look.

"Oh really?" I asked, feigning politeness as my blood boiled. "What position?"

The beautiful girl turned up her nose and picked at her lunch. "Forward," she said crisply. Of course she was. "You?"

"Striker."

Her eyes snapped up to mine and narrowed. I smirked.

"Well, try-outs don't start until the summer," Lauren said. "It's pretty competitive, but maybe you can make junior-varsity."

"Oh no," I said. "I was talking to Coach Davis earlier because I was showing him some of my videos from training and gameplays from my old school. He wants me to start with the varsity team this week."

Lauren's eyes narrowed again. I shrugged.

"Like you said, it's pretty competitive," I said, "but I'm also a very serious player. I want to make this my career."

"So you came to a small town to make that happen?" she snipped. "Doesn't seem like a smart idea."

"I have the confidence and skill to make it anywhere," I said. "Whether I pick up a scholarship from a school in Seattle or here, it won't make a difference."

"Well, if you need help training, let me know," Tyler offered, smirking between the two of us.

I smiled at him. "Definitely, thanks!"

The bell rang before I had a chance to find out what Lauren's reaction would be. Everyone was standing and throwing away their trays before going to their next class. I followed suit, waiting until Bella could push her way through the crowd to walk with me.

"Maybe you should take it easy on Tyler," she said. "I think Lauren has a crush on him."

"Well if that's the case, I won't," I said. "Lauren shouldn't have said anything about my uncle. I can't let her get away with messing with me like that."

Bella sighed.

"Besides," I went on, "Tyler's kind of cute."

_CRASH!_

We both jumped, some of the other students gasped. Bella and I were almost out o the cafeteria, but I turned around to see where the noise came from. One of the many garbage cans in the room had toppled over. The Cullen siblings, minus Jasper, stood around the mess. The blonde girl rolled her eyes and walked away while the big dark-haired boy reached down to pick up some of the contents that had spilled out. The dark-haired girl, Alice Cullen, reached down and set the garbage can upright with one hand.

Our eyes met across the room. She shrugged and rolled her eyes, playing the whole thing off like it was silly.

"Uh-oh," Mike Newton said as he showed up between Bella and I. He slung his arms over our shoulders. "Looks like you've been chosen. Better watch your back, Alice Cullen is creepy as hell."

* * *

 **My next class** was honor's history, which happened to be my least favorite subject. To make things even better, at first glance, I realized I didn't recognize a single person in the classroom. Did I get the room wrong? I'd only just started recognizing some of the faces in my junior class, and none of these people struck a familiar chord in me. I slowly made my way over to the teacher, an old man with thick white hair and even thicker glasses with my sign-in sheet in hand.

"Um... hi," I said quietly. The teacher perked up and snatched the sign-in sheet out o fly hand. "Am I in the right class?"

"Blaire Holcomb, honor's history. Afraid so, I have you on my roster," the man said in a grumbly voice. His eyes behind his glasses were kind. "You were in advanced placement at your old school, yes?"

"Uh, yes."

The man nodded. "Since Forks High doesn't have the same curriculum you came from, we had to make do with what we had. You will be in the senior's honor's history class. Sit wherever you like, I have to update the seating chart anyway."

I faced the classroom again and made my way toward the first empty desk I could find. It happened to be closest to the classroom door.

The class was of course boring, but all of my history classes were. Since my mom taught history for a living, I already knew every single detail about America, start to... well, where I was now. This class was apparently still on World War I. I struggled to focus. The teacher, whose name I learned was Mister Apell, passed out worksheets we were required to work on for the rest of class. "Since you don't have your books, I'm sure Mister Hale won't mind sharing with you," Mister Apell said as he laid a worksheet flat on my desk.

As if. The last thing I wanted to do was ask to look off of someone's stuff, especially when I had a feeling I didn't need it. I picked up the paper and scanned over the questions. They were simple enough.

I pulled out a pen and set to work, until I felt a light tap on my shoulder. When I turned around, my eyes widened.

The blond from the parking lot was sitting _right behind me_.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was actually on vacation in Arizona! Talk about coincidence! Phoenix was awesome, I totally get why Bella didn't want to leave, but I also have no clue how she stayed pale. I am red as a lobster! Oh well, one of the many mysteries Twilight had to offer.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! We'll have more Jasper in the next installment! Are you guys excited?! I am!
> 
> Thank you for your reads, bookmarks, and kudos! I really appreciate it!


	5. REJECTIONS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back! As always, thank you guys so much for your bookmarks, kudos, and reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

* * *

 **THE BLOND BOY WAS EVEN**   _more_ perfect up close. His features were sharp and angular and perfectly aligned. But while he looked youthful, his expression, his poster, even the very quirk of his mouth, somehow made him look older - more cynical than any high schooler had a right to be.

I especially saw it in his eyes. They were dark brown under the fluorescent lights, but whenever they moved, I could have sworn I saw flecks of gold. They stared at me now with the same coldness from the parking lot, flicking over me like he was reading something on my skin. It looked like he was assessing, measuring...

Figuring it out. Not adding up.

The sudden disappointment on his face stung worse than any of Lauren Mallory's insults. I quickly realized I didn't like it.

So I glared at him.

"Um... are you all right?" he finally asked, and holy crap his _voice_. It was low and gravelly. It rasped in all the right ways, complementing the strange lilt in his words - which was an accent. A _Southern_ accent.

Oh boy.

Pull it together, Blaire. I couldn't let some _boy_ fluster me, even if he was the most gorgeous one I'd ever seen seen in my entire life. He was still staring at me!

"I'm fine," I said. "I was waiting for you to stop staring at me like that."

His eyes widened for a millisecond before they narrowed again. My heart skipped a beat.

His eyes changed again, glancing over my face a second time, but differently. There was a new look on his face I'd never seen on anyone before. It was only there for split-second, but it set off alarms in the back of my mind.

Then the look was gone, making me wonder if it was even there in the first place. Maybe I was just imagining it...

The boy slowly stretched out, leaning backward in his seat. He wore a navy Henley shirt that clung to his well-muscled arms like a second skin, forcing me to notice every hardened line of his body as he moved. I wondered again why the Cullen boys didn't play sports. Maybe I even secretly lamented the fact. If I liked this boy's body just sitting in front of me, I could only imagine what it would be like to see him move. "Like what?" he asked with a long exhale.

"Like - Like I'm some kind of math problem," I said, scrambling to remember what we were talking about. "You're doing it right now."

He finally looked away. "Do you want to use my text book or not? Mister Apell said you didn't have your own yet -"

"Your last name is Hale?" I blurted out.

His expression finally morphed, but it twisted in confusion. "Yes," he said slowly, as if I were stupid. Well, he wouldn't be far off the mark with the way I was acting. Hale, of course I knew that. Didn't someone say that during lunch?

_His name was Jasper Hale._

"Oh..." I replied. "I - I'm Blaire Holcomb."

He continued to stare at me like he was still trying to figure something out. "I know," he said.

"Okay... Well, I don't need it," I said curtly, nodding to the book, before turning back around in my seat. "The book, I mean. My mom's a history professor so I kind of know this stuff like the back of my hand. But thank you for offering."

I scribbled down answers on the worksheet and tried to ignore the fact I blew off the hottest guy in the universe, but there was something about him. Something that made my stomach lurch and my ears buzz. There was a small voice that whispered run, even though I only wanted to get closer.

"Okay then," I heard him mutter behind me.

And that was... strangely that.

* * *

 _ **I could tell**_  Bella was put out when Edward Cullen never even showed up at school. Being forced to play volleyball in gym only seemed to add insult to injury for her, so I tried not to make fun of her. Her shoulders were slumped a little lower as she drove. Even her silence seemed a little more forlorn.

"Geez, you really have it bad for this guy, don't you?" I asked.

Bella startled from her reverie. "I do not," she said. "I just want to know what his deal was."

"Maybe you'll get your chance tomorrow," I said, "but honestly, you shouldn't waste your time. There's something... _off_ about that family."

"You see it too?" Bella asked.

"Um yeah, I think everyone does," I replied. "I bet you money that guy Emmett can bench over three hundred pounds, yet he doesn't do sports. And the short girl - Alice, right? She looked like she stepped right out of _VOGUE_. Her outfit was that on point today. Why isn't Jessica Stanley trying to get in her closet? Why isn't anyone friends with any of them? It's because there's something weird about them, Bells, different -"

"Just because they're different doesn't mean that's a bad thing," Bella defended.

"No, I get that," I said. "I mean, I totally agree with you, but... Don't you get any bad vibes from them? There's just something vaguely... culty about them."

" _Culty_?" Bella echoed incredulously.

"Trust me, I wish I had a better word for it."

"I didn't realize you were into conspiracy theories," she teased.

"I'm not!" I said. My phone started vibrating before I could say more. I glowered at the screen when I read the word **_DAD_**. Reject. "Hey, can I still borrow your copy of _Wuthering Heights_? I want to be as impressive as you in English."

"Sure," she said. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I have to pick up some groceries from the Thriftway."

"I would, but I think my mom already has plans for dinner. Apparently she's worried about me because I've adjusted _too well_." I put air quotes around the words "too well," making Bella crack a smile. "But I'd love to hang out for a while. I can have Waylon pick me up since your house is on the way back to his from the police station, that way you don't have to make any extra trips."

"Okay, cool," Bella said while I started texting my mom and uncle about my plans.

My mom's response was an immediate phone call. I frowned and answered it. " _Hey, honey_ ," my mom said. " _I completely forgot about dinner. The, um, lawyer called for a last minute meeting today so I had to drive out to Seattle. I can have Waylon order a pizza -_ "

"It's no big deal, Mom," I said. "Bella invited me over for dinner anyway -"

"I can pick up an extra steak for your mom and Waylon too," Bella offered, able to hear my mom's stressed voice carry through my phone speaker.

"I want to," Bella said. "It gives us a reason to hang out more."

* * *

 _ **Bella was a**_ domestic kind of person. I quickly found this out as she handled grocery shopping with the ease of a mom, apparently because she used to do it all the time in Phoenix. I found that a little sad. While I watched her inspect steaks and vegetables, she told me about the mom she moved away from and how she was scatterbrained and immature, which made Bella grow up fast. I got the feeling Charlie also didn't know much about his own daughter either, judging by the dinner we had at the café. They both seemed distant. That had to be hard on her.

My family was the exact opposite. Both sides were very much intertwined with my life, especially my mom's side. Since I was the only kid, my uncle treated me like one of his own and my grandparents (while they'd been alive) doted on me endlessly. I was grateful for all of the support I had.

After grocery shopping, we went to Bella's house, which looked the exact way I remembered it. It was smaller than my uncle's, white-washed, and beautiful against all of the green trees surrounding it in a rustic sort of way. I helped unload groceries and prepare dinner by making a marinade for the steak using a recipe I found on the internet while Bella prepped potatoes.

Bella had to answer a couple of emails from her mom who at least showed enough concern to email at all, but she passed me her worn copy of _Wuthering Heights_ before doing so. I stretched out on her bed, flicking through the first pages while she sat at her computer.

Bella and I had an interesting dynamic. Ever since we were little, we just _clicked_. We were inseparable during summer vacations. Despite the time and distance that separated us for seven years, we sat in her room now in a companionable silence that took some friends years to build. Our relationship was like that, though. Effortless.

"Do you remember the time you told me the only reason you liked coming to Washington was because of me?" I asked suddenly. "Because you actually hated it here? Because of all the cold and rain?"

She spun around in the office chair at her desk. "Kind of," she admitted. "It's been a while. Why?"

I shrugged. "I was just thinking I feel the same way now. This, just us hanging out, is keeping me sane. I think I'd be going crazy if I didn't have anyone to keep my mind off of the stuff going on with my family."

"You're keeping me sane too," Bella said. "I only moved here so my mom could travel with my stepdad, Phil. I still don't like it here, but I thought it'd be easier on everyone. To be honest, when Charlie said you'd be living here until the end of the semester, I was excited."

I smiled. "Me too."

After Bella answered her mom's emails, she turned her chair so it faced me and she propped her feet on the edge of the bed before grabbing another book to read - _Romeo and Juliet_. I guessed she was a classics buff.

Time passed quickly. After a few hours, I was almost halfway through the book since we didn't do much else besides read until we heard the front door open.

"Oh, the steak," Bella said, dropping her book so she could bolt out of the room. I lurched up from my seat and followed her out.

"Bella?" Charlie called as we trampled down the stairs.

"Hey, Dad," Bella said as we both reached the bottom step. I watched the Chief hang up his belt and step out of his boots. I perked up when I saw my uncle's head poke through the front door.

"Bee-Squared!" he exclaimed as he walked inside. He followed Charlie's lead in taking off his belt and leaving it near the front door. He made a big show of appreciatively smelling the air. "Wow, who knew Charlie was getting so lucky. It smells great in here."

"It's just potatoes," Bella said shyly as she walked into the kitchen. I handled putting the steak in the oven to broil while she pulled out a baking dish filled with the vegetable in question. 

"You're too modest kid," Waylon said. "Maybe you can teach Blaire a thing or two."

"Says the guy who lives on a steady diet of Carver Café," I teased. "Hey, isn't there a game on today?"

"This is why you're my favorite niece," Waylon said. I smirked. "Come on, Charlie, let the women work while we do manly things like watch basketball."

I laughed loudly and continued to help Bella with dinner. As we chopped vegetables to make a salad and poured drinks, I drifted in and out of the living room so I could catch highlights and the latest score of the game.

"I didn't know you liked watching sports," Bella said.

"I'm definitely all about soccer," I said. "Baseball's a close second, but I usually don't mind whatever's on."

Bella hummed to show she was listening, but her focus was on the steak. As she pulled them out of the oven, I called Charlie and Waylon in the dining room to eat.

"Smells good, Bell," Charlie said as he took a seat at one end of the table.

"You're telling me," Waylon said as he sat next to him. His eyes widened when he saw the salad and potatoes already set in front of him. "Blaire, I wasn't kidding when I said to take notes."

"Yeah, yeah," I said as I sat across from him. "Thanks for having us over, guys."

"No problem," Bella said while Charlie grunted.

"So how was school today, Blaire?" Waylon asked as he cut into his steak. "You didn't embarrass Bella too much, did you?"

"Hopefully it wasn't anything too scarring," I said while Bella and I smiled at each other. "It was good. I met a lot of her friends and they're all really nice."

"That's good," he said. "Did you get a chance to talk to the coach?"

"He was my first stop this morning after getting my schedule. He wants me in on varsity practice this Thursday so I need to start running drills. Do you know if Mom got me a new ball today?"

Waylon frowned. "Didn't know you needed one. We can run over to Netwon Outfitters later. I think they have some sport stuff."

"Newton?" I asked. "That's funny. We go to school with a kid named Mike Newton."

Charlie nodded. "His dad owns that store. He makes a good living off of all the backpackers who come through here. Nice kid - nice family."

"Do you know the Cullen family?" Bella asked.

"Doctor Cullen's family?" Charlie asked, as if we could somehow verify that. "Sure. Doctor Cullen's a great man. Why?"

"They... the kids..." Bella began. "They're a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

I frowned at the tenseness I saw in my uncle's shoulders when I looked over at him as he worked through his salad.

"People in this town," Charlie muttered. "Doctor Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here. We're lucky to have him - lucky his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. i thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature - I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who've lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should - camping trips every other weekend... Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

My brows shot up. That was probably the most I'd ever heard Charlie talk in one sitting.

No one said anything for a minute.

"So... what I'm getting out of this is that you want to take more camping trips as a family," I finally said. "Right?"

Charlie scoffed and reached out to ruffle my hair. Waylon smirked at me. "Don't be mad, Charlie," he said. "She gets it from me."

The rest of our dinner at the Swan residence lapsed without any more monologues from Charlie and plenty of quips between my uncle and I. After I helped Bella with the dishes and put her copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in my backpack, Waylon and I left with the promise that Bella would pick me up for school tomorrow. My mom also texted me, letting me know she made it back from Seattle and got a new soccer ball while she was in the city. 

All felt right in the world, until I got in Waylon's police cruiser.

The atmosphere changed. It was strangely quiet, maybe even awkwardly so, which was unusual. My uncle and I didn't know these kinds of silences. Once he was on the main road, he finally spoke.

"Blaire, what do you think about the Cullens?" he asked.

Weird topic of conversation, but whatever. I shrugged. "Not much. Like Bella said, they kind of keep to themselves. But..."

"But?" he pressed.

I pursed my lips, debating on if I should tell him what I really thought, mainly because of how strongly Charlie opposed of any ill word about the family in the first place. But this was my uncle. He was the closest family member I had, besides my mom and dad. He wouldn't judge me.

"But I think there's something off about them," I finally said. "I can't exactly say what, though. I don't know, it may sound dumb and small-minded. I'm not trying to judge them or anything -"

"I know, I know," Waylon said. "Just... do me a favor, Bee."

"Sure."

"Stay away from them."

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... Uncle Waylon say what now? How is Blaire gonna handle this?!
> 
> So what did you think of Blaire and Jasper's first meeting? Was it everything you hoped for? Yes? No? Maybe so? Let me know with a comment!


	6. STRESSORS

 

 

* * *

 

 **THE NEXT DAY WAS EVEN** slower than the last.

In the morning, Bella and I would arrive at the school early and wait for the Volvo. Of course, Edward Cullen wasn't there, which made me wonder if the fifth Cullen was actually a figment of her imagination. When I asked Bella this, she answered by smacking my arm.

But Jasper Hale was definitely there and he gave me his signature calculating look that lasted at least five seconds. Alice Cullen noticed our weird staring contest, and she waved excitedly at Bella and I. We waved back. When he saw the exchange, Jasper actually cracked a small smirk.

I may or may not have confused my reason of living between soccer and that smirk for two seconds, even if I didn't exactly know what it meant, but the world quickly realigned itself when the bell rang.

At lunch, I avoided looking at the Cullen's table at all costs. I refocused my energy into getting to know Tyler Crowley. He was a smart choice for a potential boyfriend: more approachable, he liked sports, and it drove Lauren-freaking-Mallory nuts.

It was the small things in life that made a difference.

By the time lunch ended, I thought I was officially cured of whatever weird hold Jasper had on me.

Then, of course, everything went to shit by fifth period.

Somehow, we made it to the door at the same time and I almost crashed into him in my rush to get to the classroom. It was an opportunity to actually realize how tall Jasper Hale was. He nearly towered over me. How tall did that make him? Six feet? _More_ than six feet?

"Uh, sorry," I said, taking two small steps backward to let him into the room.

He stood with the same poise as a soldier standing at attention before taking one short step backward. He didn't even look at me. Instead, he stared off to the side with a pained look on his face. It was only there for a second, but I knew I wasn't imagining it when his features changed again. Even though the interaction lasted less than a second, it was enough to set off the familiar Cullen-centric warning bells and bring my uncle's warning to the forefront of my mind.

_Stay away from them._

I'd tried to ask him what he meant by it. Charlie seemed to like the Cullens well enough, more than well enough even since he defended them the way he had over dinner. Why would Waylon have a different opinion? But Waylon remained clammed up for the rest of the ride home. He retreated to his room as soon as we got there too. Even though he hadn't said a word, I got the message loud and clear. Whatever Waylon didn't like about the Cullens was serious, it had to be since he'd never used such a severe tone with me before. I would take his advice to heart.

So I didn't bother to convince Jasper to go ahead of me. I ducked into the room and muddled through the rest of fifth period, hyper-aware of the strange boy sitting right behind me, quietly obsessing over what his strange expressions and mannerisms meant.

Uncle Waylon told me to stay away from them. That didn't mean I couldn't think about them.

After school, Bella came over to my uncle's house. When I finally pried her away from her classic novels and email-writing to run drills with me (since my very first practice with the Forks High Spartans was tomorrow), I came across a surprise in the back yard.

My uncle had transformed his yard into a miniature practice field. He mowed down the overgrown grass and outfitted it with little cones, a small goal net, and spray painted squares on the ground where I could practice footwork. He said he wasn't using the backyard for anything else and he had some free time during his lunch break, so it wasn't a big deal at all. I didn't believe it for a second.

Bella was actually kind of helpful, as in she actually increased my agility when I had to intercept the ball she awkwardly kicked in random directions. At least she was trying.

When Charlie and Waylon came home from the police station, Waylon sat outside with us and took over Bella's role as makeshift coach. He claimed it was better outside because there was "too much sexual tension" going on in the house between my mom and Charlie for him to handle. Bella turned beet-red and I almost chucked my new soccer ball at his head.

Waylon ran me through more drills. He was actually more helpful than Bella, since he actually knew the sport and came to as many of my games as he could in Seattle. He and Bella encouraged me and gave me constructive criticism, but they could tell I was getting frustrated when I realized I was moving a lot slower than usual. That was terrifying. How was I supposed to make the team if I couldn't even complete basic drills on time? When Mom finally called us in for dinner, I couldn't taste my food. When I went to bed, I didn't sleep.

But that was yesterday.

Today, I bolted out of bed. I didn't care that I woke up thirty minutes earlier than my alarm. I showered and dressed in black Adidas soccer pants, white slip-on Vans, and a black hoodie with a cowl hood. I didn't bother straightening my hair and threw it back in a messy bun. When I looked in the mirror, I thought I looked like a badass and I hoped other people would get that message too. That way no one could tell I was freaking out on the inside. Lauren-freaking-Mallory could eat her heart out.

I scarfed down a bowl of cereal and went outside to practice drills on the driveway while I waited for Bella. It was still dark out, but the porch light from my uncle's house and the streetlamp across the road cast enough light to illuminate the driveway.

That's when the paranoia started.

It was an uncomfortable niggling sensation that started eating at me from the inside. I attributed it to nerves. As I dribbled the ball down the driveway, I saw something lying on top of the mailbox. I toed my ball into the grass next to the driveway so it wouldn't roll away before I walked toward it. The thing lying on the mailbox was a floppy piece of cotton and polyester. It was red and white and slippery-smooth to the touch.

It was my old soccer ball.

The one I lost to the forest on my first day here.

It was deflated. I picked it up, trying to ignore the way my skin erupted into goosebump and tingled with panic. There was a giant hole in it, like someone or some _thing_ tore a chunk out of it.

What the hell?

 _Bop_ , _bop_ , _bop_.

I whipped around.

My new soccer ball bounced down the driveway. It rolled right past me, and into the empty street.

That was impossible. I knew for a _fact_ that I pushed that ball far enough into the grass so it wouldn't move. It couldn't have ended up in the street. It shouldn't have. That niggling sensation turned into something sharper... more acute. It told me to run back into Waylon's house and leave the ball behind.

I huffed out a short breath and squared my shoulders. There was no way I was losing another ball to Forks just because I was a little uncomfortable. I was seventeen years old. I wasn't afraid of the dark. Still, I set a quick pace to reach my ball and pick it up.

The wintry cold breeze from my first night in Forks hit my back. I shuddered. I straightened up and twisted around, only to wince at a pinprick of pain stinging my cheek. I reached up with my free hand and touched the side of my face. When I pulled back, my fingertips were spotted with blood.

Run.

I sprinted for the house, yanking my new soccer ball and the deflated one along with me. I nearly slammed the front door behind me and locked it.

I tried to regulate my ragged breathing, I tried to remind myself of what my uncle said. There were deer here that were used to people and they could hide very well. Maybe I walked past one that'd been standing in the front yard and I didn't even notice it. It could have kicked my ball into the street while it was running away. And my cheek... I could have scratched it in my sleep. It was only a graze. It stopped bleeding as soon as I got into the house.

It might have been a stretch, but I forced myself to believe it. There was no other explanation. I sat on my uncle's couch, not moving, barely breathing, until I got Bella's text letting me know she was in the driveway.

 

* * *

 

 _ **While Bella waited**_ for the Cullens to arrive, I juggled my soccer ball on my feet and knees. I popped it off my chest and let it fall around my twisted legs around the ball and tried to balance it on my calves as I shuffled around the truck in its parking space.

The distraction was good for me, it made everything else going wrong in my life disappear. I was in my own little bubble where my parents weren't getting a divorce, where I hadn't uprooted my entire soccer career because I couldn't bear meeting my dad's eyes while I stayed in Seattle, where none of my so-called "friends" hadn't even bothered to reach out to me since I transferred, where the unsettling events from this morning couldn't rattle me...

Soccer had been a buoy for me ever since I started playing, even more so after my middle school coach told my mom I had the potential for something bigger than playing at an amateur level. I'd given the sport everything so I could make that happen, and in turn it gave me peace when I couldn't find it anywhere else.

"I don't mind picking you up after practice," Bella said, distracted from her reading by my repetitive kicking. She looked down at my feet from her seat on the tailgate, tapping her outstretched feet to a tempo that emanated from one earbud dangling from the side of her head. I could hear a tinny version of whatever song she was listening to from where I hovered.

"Nah, you're good," I said while I continued to juggle the ball. "It's going to be super boring. Uncle Waylon said he could do it since Mom's working out the settlement in Seattle. Any day now everything will be finalized."

"I get that, but doesn't that mean you have to go with your uncle to Mason County?" she asked. "Charlie said they still haven't gotten to the bottom of that animal attack."

"Yeah, but I don't mind," I said. "I'm actually kind of excited. I've never seen Waylon at work before so it'll be fun."

"I think you and I have different definitions of fun," she grumbled, sticking her nose back in her book.

"I could've told you that a long time ago, Bell," I replied. "Guy-stalking has never really been my forte."

Bella scoffed at me. "Just guy- _stealing_."

"I already told you whatever I had going on with Tyler has fizzled out," I said. "I think he's only giving me attention now because he realizes it makes Lauren jealous. Phase one practically runs itself now."

"Phase one?"

"Yes," I said. More cars pulled into the parking lot. "Phase two is owning her ass on the field today. Phase three is taking all her friends when we go to the beach. Phase _four_ is burning the school down in retribution for my hair yesterday. We'll see if this state's precious rain can soak through _that_."

Of course she wasn't listening to me. Bella was staring intently at the Volvo pulling into a parking spot. I rolled my eyes at her and turned, pointedly ignoring the car so I could go juggle the ball.

" _Ooh_ , girl!" Tyler shouted from across the parking lot. Mike Newton was on his heels, adding an appreciative whistle to to Tyler's comment as they approached us. "You're looking _fine_ in those soccer pants!"

I laughed as I let the bounce off my chest and fall to my feet. "Tell me something I don't know," I called back. "Does it make you wish you played too?"

"Actually yes," Tyler admitted me as he stood in front of me, his eyes locked on my feet as I switched the ball between them. "Maybe I'll try out this summer."

Mike sidled up to Bella's side. Apparently he was still desperate to make a connection with her, and I had a feeling everyone except him knew it was a lost cause. It all boiled down to one simple concept: Bella was smart and Mike was not. I smirked at my friend as she tried to divide her attention equally between him and the Cullens' car. 

"You should," I told Tyler. I smiled up at him. "I bet it'd make all the girls go crazy if you played two sports."

"I'll have to think about it. Basketball is my main focus right now, but I kind of like the idea. Especially now that I know you soccer girls make an art out of juggling _balls_  –"

"Tyler Crowley!" I gasped, almost losing control of the ball as I burst into laughter. "You know what? Let's see how well you can juggle your _balls_ –"

I kicked the ball up to him, forcing Tyler to drop his backpack off his shoulder so he could receive it. His reflexes were quick, I'd give him that, but as the ball bounced off of his chest and landed at his feet it was all over. He kicked it off his toe too hard, making it sail a few car-lengths down the parking lot.

"Oh shit!" Tyler exclaimed.

We all whipped around, following the trajectory of the ball as it flew past cars and students. To my horror, it headed straight for the Cullens. I sprinted for it. "Hey, _watch out_!" I shouted.

The Cullens almost turned at the same time, but it was Emmett Cullen who intercepted the ball. He bent down and picked it up as it slowed to a gentle bounce at his feet. 

"Thanks, man," I said as I jogged up to them. "Sorry about that. Now I know what happens when you give a soccer ball to a basketball player."

"It's all right," Emmett said with an easy grin. He tossed the ball back to me, throwing it hard enough that when I caught it with both hands, my palms stung. 

It was then that I realized I was standing in front of all the Cullen kids, who all stared at me with a little too much intensity to be comfortable. I felt like a fly trapped under a glass.

"Well, I'm Blaire," I said. "The other new student at Forks High."

"We're well aware," the blonde girl, Rosalie, said. Her voice was smooth and rich and held a brassy note of sarcasm in it. "You can't get away with much in this school without _someone_ noticing."

She said the last part in a way that made me question whether or not it was supposed to hold some kind of double-meaning. I pretended not to notice it. "That... sounds about right," I finally said.

"I'm Alice Cullen," the smallest girl, the one that seemed the nicest in the group, spoke up. Her voice was light and airy, but she spoke with enough confidence that could force people to pay attention to it. I looked at her, bracing myself for the cheerful smile that lit up her face, all the way up to her dark eyes.

Like every day this week, she was dressed to the nines. Today she wore a black halter top and high-waisted jeans with an oversized cardigan draped over her shoulders. I wondered if she was cold. And also if she would get busted for a dress code violation or not. She finished her outfit off with chunky black boots, making her look like a rogue punk rock princess in the thick of a terribly drab backwood high school. "It's nice to meet you!" she said.

"It's nice to meet you too," I said, trying to reciprocate her level of friendliness. It was hard to be so cheery, especially this early, especially with everything going on in my life. "I like your shoes."

That flipped a switch inside Alice Cullen. Her smile went from bright to dazzling. "Really? Thank you so much! You can borrow them if you want! We're the same size –"

I suddenly noticed Jasper Hale standing behind her. He looked uncomfortable throughout this entire almost-conversation, but seemed to hit his breaking point when he dropped his arm on the roof of the Volvo with a loud _thud_.

"At least, we _look_ the same shoe size," Alice quickly amended. Her smile and tone dimmed.

It unfortunately made me realize why Mike Newton and some of my other new classmates thought she was weird. But I felt for her, I really did. Alice Cullen was probably just really eager to make new friends outside of her tightly-knit siblings. Even though I was an only child, or maybe _because_ I was an only child, I understood her desire to reach out and make more connections with people.

Despite my uncle's warnings and my own unease that stemmed from being in such close proximity to the family, I did what any half-decent person would do. I smiled. "You think so?" I asked. "I'm a six."

A more genuine smile graced her features. "Me too," she said.

"Really? That's awesome!" I said. "You'll have to tell me where you go shopping too. I really like a lot of your outfits."

"Definitely!" she chirped. "I can make you a list if you want –"

"What happened to your face?"

The hell? I couldn't even school my expression when I looked at Jasper. His gaze was intent, just as it usually seemed to be. "Uh... nothing?" I said, reaching up to touch the graze running across my cheek. "I think I scratched myself on accident or something."

Rosalie snorted, or maybe she scoffed. I frowned at her. 

The bell rang before I could say anything, and I still had to get my cleats and practice shoes to my gym locker so I wouldn't have to cart them around all day. "Anyway," I said to Alice, "a list would be awesome. I've got to run, but I guess I'll see you guys at lunch? It was nice to meet you."

"Bye, Blaire!" Alice called as I turned and made my way back to Tyler, Mike, and Bella. They were still standing at the truck, eyes wide.

"What?" I asked them. "What is the matter with you guys? Why does everyone at this damn school stare so much?"

 

* * *

 

 _ **Periods one through**_ four were nightmarishly slow. I could feel my anxiety shooting through the roof as each class brought me closer to the end of the school day. Lunch was horrendous, since I had to sit across from Lauren- _freaking_ -Mallory, who took it upon herself to give me the shittiest pep-talk in the history of the universe.

"I wouldn't stress so much," she'd said. "Even though you've been out of practice for a few weeks, I'm sure Coach Davis will give you a chance."

Her words were the root of my anxiety. She knew it too.

By the time I made it to fifth period, my heartrate was all over the place and it was getting harder to breathe. I had a feeling the added anxiety of my parents' divorce, the move, my sudden lack of friends, and all the weird things happening at Waylon's house were just starting to hit me like I'd just shot back an ugly emotional cocktail. I bet my shitty drill times kicked it off, and I couldn't rein it in.

The walls of the tiny classroom felt like they were closing in. My head pounded so hard it started to ache. I slumped on my desk and tried to message my temples, bounced my right leg to keep myself moving.

I almost jumped out of my seat when a large cold hand gripped my shoulder from behind. I twisted around.

Jasper Hale was glaring at me. His eyes were so dark they looked black under the fluorescent lights. Wait, weren't they brown the last time I looked at them? I couldn't remember, mainly because I was too nervous and the intensity of his stare wasn't helping anything. " _What_ is the matter with you?" he demanded.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a wild cliff-hanger!
> 
> Honestly though, how else am I going to keep you guys coming back?
> 
> So what the heck do you think is going on at Waylon's house? Maybe Blaire really is going crazy, but I don't buy it. Did you guys like that scene? Was it creepy?


End file.
